Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 97836 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97836 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
I’d been around Way’s family enough by now to know they were supportive and welcoming. “Why do you sound so unenthusiastic about it? Are you worried about someone discovering our ruse?”
He shook his head as he pulled a box of macaroni out of the cabinet and held it up with a question in his expression. I nodded and reached for the saucepan to fill it with water. If my friends could see me eating boxed Mac n Cheese, they’d never let me live it down.
“I’m not worried about that. I just…” Way sighed and turned to prop his ass against the counter while crossing his arms over his chest. “I just hate going further down this road when I know they’re all going to be disappointed in me in July when you leave.”
I forced myself to sit at the kitchen table so I wouldn’t be tempted to touch him. “They love you. They’ll understand.”
“Will they?” He pursed his lips for a moment before inhaling. “They really like you. And the more time they spend with you, the more in lo—in like they fall.”
“I like them, too, but Waylon…” I tried softening my voice so I didn’t sound as annoyed as I was beginning to feel. “You can’t have it both ways. You can’t ask me to act like your true husband and then imply I need to keep from being friendly to your family.”
“I know that.”
I watched him to try and determine what was really going on in his head. He seemed to be struggling.
I gave up keeping my hands to myself and stood up again to rub the tension out of his shoulders while meeting his eyes. “Tell me what you want. Do you want me to be less friendly? Less helpful? Less like the kind of man you’d be married to? Maybe try to keep some distance? I could be less talkative. Stick around here more instead of coming into town.”
He uncrossed his arms and ran his hands down my sides to my hips. “I don’t understand why you’re so willing to help me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful. You’ve gone along with everything I’ve asked of you, and now you’re even willing to do the opposite.”
I considered whether or not to confess the truth, the real reason I was inclined to do whatever he wanted. Waylon Fletcher was nearly impossible to lie to. He seemed like the kind of man whose integrity and determination were baked into the very core of his being.
“The night we met, you told me about offering yourself, your entire future, to a woman in need,” I explained. “You were so genuine and kind you even felt guilty for accepting free drinks from strangers who offered them to you.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Those drinks were fifteen bucks!”
I moved my hands to his chest. “You work your ass off for this town and for your family. You’re overloaded and exhausted, and I refuse to contribute to that in any way. I will do whatever you think will bring you the most comfort and relief. Just tell me what it is.”
Way quirked his lips into a cheeky grin. “You do a pretty good job of bringing me relief as it is, Silas.”
I stepped closer to him and moved my hands around the back of his neck until my fingers found the flipped-up ends of the hair at his nape. “I believe it goes without saying I’m not taking sex off the table. Whatever else you want from me, Mayor, will come with a healthy helping of free sexual favors as well.”
“And thank god for that.”
I moved even closer until our stomachs brushed together. He stood up straighter, bringing his chest against mine. “I want you to be yourself,” he murmured. “I don’t want you to hold back or hide away.”
“I can go back to being First Gentleman, then?” I teased. My eyes couldn’t help but trace his full lips.
Way’s hands were warm as they moved up my back to my shoulders. “I should be so lucky.”
We kissed until the water in the saucepan boiled over and let out a loud hiss.
The family cookout at his Aunt Blake’s went off without a hitch. After our conversation about my role in his life, Way seemed to lean into the subterfuge and embrace our relationship as happy husbands. We held hands and brought each other drinks and plates of food. When asked about issues around town by friends and neighbors, Way often asked my advice or indicated my willingness to help.
It took me a while to trust his mood after he’d been so prickly about my offers of help, but over the following few weeks, we settled into an easy routine, so easy it almost felt real. Way and I worked our asses off during the days, whether at the ranch, City Hall, or my own consulting job via online meetings, phone calls, and copious amounts of emails. At night, we came together as if we were touch-starved, satisfying the kind of lust I hadn’t known existed outside of a porn set.